


Three Thousand Years Together

by Lazare_syn



Category: Dogma (1999)
Genre: Angst, Banter, Exploring Sexuality Without Genitals, Ficlets, Gen, Humor, Lots of talk about dicks, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-06 21:18:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11044530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazare_syn/pseuds/Lazare_syn
Summary: A series of short one shots written for the "100 words of X" threads on fail_fandom anon.





	1. Anatomically impaired as a Ken doll

**Author's Note:**

> Original prompt: write 100 words of hunger.

"Do you ever wonder why God gave us mouths and tastebuds, but not dicks or assholes?" Loki asked.

Bartleby looked up at him from his burger. The two angels were currently sitting in a run-down diner they had decided to give a try. It had sprung up a mere twenty years ago, and judging from the current owner’s indiscretions regarding loan payments and the young women he employed at his establishment, it wouldn’t be lasting much longer. "Dude, did you have to ask that while I was eating?" he complained.

"No, no,” said Loki, “this is the perfect time and place to ask something like this."

He leaned forward, obviously eager to share his insight. "Here we are, enjoying one of the pleasures of this Earth the same as these mortals around us, despite our heavenly bodies not needing material sustenance to stay alive. Eating is an action that humans indulge in every day that leads many of them to gluttony and greed, yet we are allowed this pleasure and denied another form of pleasure that is also decried for being sinful, for no apparent reason other than an arbitrary one. Why is this so, when we aren't even able to perform the bodily functions that should naturally occur after food has been consumed?”

There was a pause.

"Well, they do say God works in mysterious ways," Bartleby said lightly, though his face belied his pain and frustration at the mention of their Creator. "I'm not sure why this suddenly popped into your head, though. Have you been watching those cooking shows again? I told you too much Gordon Ramsey would have a bad influence on you." He polished off his burger in two large bites, then glanced at Loki's untouched burger and drink. "By the way, are you going to finish that?"

Loki sighed and pushed his meal towards Bartleby. "Go ahead," he muttered, then pushed his chair back and stood up. "I'm going to the bathroom."

"I thought you just said we didn't have dicks or assholes," Bartleby called after him, prompting a nasty glare from a woman sitting two tables down. Loki ignored him.


	2. Don't you want to go home?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: write 100 words of bondage.

"You're making a mistake, Loki," said Bartleby coldly.

"Actually, I don't think I am," Loki replied. He tightened the bonds that secured Bartleby to the pillar that he had recently been slammed against and stepped back. "In fact, you're the one who's making a mistake here."

His old friend turned and gave him a murderous glare, struggling against his restraints.

"Let me out, Loki," Bartleby said beseechingly. I know you want to go home as much as I do, so why are you doing this? What purpose does preventing me from pursuing the most obvious solution to our problem serve you?"

"I'm not letting you kill those innocent people, Bartleby! I'm not letting you try and take on fucking God, of all beings!"

"Loki, we deserve this! Don't you still love God? Don't you want to leave this shithole behind and go back to where we belong?"

"Bartleby," said Loki hoarsely. His voice broke and he looked down, shoulders shaking slightly. Bartleby stared at him. "Of course I want God to let us back in. Of course I still love Him. But I love you more. I can't just stand by and watch as you destroy yourself, inside and out. I would rather stay in Wisconsin forever than go back to Heaven without you."

He walked back towards Bartleby, still tied to the pillar, and grabbed the lapels of his coat in a crude imitation of how Bartleby had pinned him against it moments before. Instead of pushing, however, Loki merely rested his head against Bartleby's unresisting chest.

"Let this go, Bartleby," he whispered. "Let's go back to Wisconsin and forget all about this crazy plan."

Above him, Bartleby sighed. His hand awkwardly stroked Loki's back as much as it could, his confines limiting its mobility. "I can't," he said, voice filled with regret.

He flexed his wings. The ropes around him snapped.


	3. If only He'd let us jerk off once in a while

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: write 100 words of nipple play.

"You do know we don't have dicks, right?" Loki asked mildly as Bartleby slid his heavy coat off his shoulders.

"With the way you keep reminding me of that fact, how could I forget?" Bartleby retorted. Loki’s coat slipped to the ground, and was quickly joined by Bartleby’s own coat.

"So what’s the point? This won’t do anything for either of us,” Loki said flatly. Bartleby just smirked and continued to undress him. “No point in getting kinky if neither of us gets off.”

“You know, we really do wear too many layers,” Bartleby noted, lifting the hem of Loki’s shirt. Loki obligingly raised his arms above his head, allowing Bartleby to remove his shirt and revealing the dull silver chest plate he wore underneath it. “And as a certain prophet once said, ‘don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it.’”

Loki snorted. “I’m pretty sure no prophet ever said anything of the sort,” he said as Bartleby unfastened the buckles of his armor and pushed it off his body. The chestplate clattered to the ground next to their coats, finally freeing Loki’s wings from their confines. They spread out majestically around him as he stood back, thumped his now bare chest, and gave Bartleby a challenging grin.

“Alright, lay it on me, big boy,” he cooed mockingly. “Give me all you got. Watch out though, I tend to get violent when I’m tickled.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” Bartleby replied drily, “although I was anticipating a more pleasant reaction from you than getting ticklish.” Then he knelt in front of Loki, grabbed him by the waist, and sucked gently on his left nipple.

Loki’s smug expression quickly flipped to one of astonished pleasure. A startled moan escaped from his mouth, and he stared at the top of Bartleby’s head.

“What the hell was that?” he demanded.

Bartleby removed his mouth from Loki’s nipple and grinned up at him. “Dude, have you never played with your own nipples? Feels great, doesn’t it?” He leaned down and licked Loki’s nipple.

“I never...saw the point,” Loki said faintly. “I don’t know what I was thinking, this is awesome.”

He could feel Bartleby’s huff of laughter as he continued to lavish attention on his left nipple. The reverberations of his laughter created vibrations that made Loki shiver.

“This wasn’t what I was expecting at all,” he added breathlessly, his words cutting off on another moan as Bartleby started on his other nipple. His wings shivered above them, sending down a small shower of downy feathers that danced around the two angels as they fell. It was, he mused faintly, a bit like a scene out of one of those cheesy 80s pornos he and Bartleby had rented once. All it needed was some jazz music.


	4. I just wanted to go home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: write 100 words of falling.

Loki had realized there was no turning back a long time ago, but it only dawned on him exactly what that meant when Bartleby pulled out the knife.

They were standing at the steps of the church, painted crimson with the blood of unlucky parishioners. Some gore had spattered onto the two angels, but on the whole they were relatively clean. Bartleby's wings were still pure and white, like undriven snow, and Loki was pretty sure his wings were similarly spotless. For now.

“This is the final step of our journey, my friend,” Bartleby murmured, stepping towards Loki. Loki felt a sudden, intense urge to back away, but instead he stood there, frozen. With exaggerated care, Bartleby tapped the blade against the base of Loki’s wings.

“Let’s go home,” he said. He raised the knife and swung. Loki screamed, but it was too late.


	5. Let's kill people

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: write 100 words of negative religious connotations.

It was a typical day at the General Mitchell International Airport. So far, Bartleby had observed a woman slapping her baby over the head for crying too much, witnessed an international drug smuggling ring getting through security with no problem, and seen too many adulterers to keep track. Next to him, Loki chewed on a roast beef sandwich disinterestedly.

“I really don’t get the appeal of this voyeurism,” he muttered, dropping the empty wrapper to the ground. He shifted impatiently in his seat, obviously bored. “If only there were some more hardcore believers around to mess with.”

Bartleby snorted in amusement, then paused and turned around in his chair. “I think I’ve just found some,” he said.

Loki turned as well, letting out a low whistle at what he was witnessing. Two young women were standing in front of the arrival gate, kissing passionately. They were already starting to attract a small crowd of disapproving onlookers, including an elderly man clutching a silver cross, some parents covering their children’s eyes, and one of the stewardesses. As the two angels looked on in amusement, the women continued to make out as one of them slowly lifted her middle finger to the crowd, prompting a wave of scandalised gasps.

“They’ve got some balls on them,” Loki said approvingly. “Course, they’re more likely to face the wrath of these people than the wrath of the old man. When he wasn’t asking me to smite some sinners, he was all about peace and love. Funny how humans never seem to properly grasp the meaning of what God tries to tell them.”

Bartleby let out a huff of laughter. “Ironic, considering what a lot of these guys have been up to.” He indicated a middle-aged man shielding his daughter’s eyes while his wife tutted in disapproval next to him, two teenaged boys giggling and pointing at the kissing couple, and an elderly woman complaining to the flight attendants. “Not to mention that lady over there who's done some terrible things to her kids. If only they knew God hates hypocrites more than He does homosexuals.”

Loki stood from his chair. “How about let’s let them know,” he suggested with a grin. “Haven’t stretched those smiting muscles for a couple of centuries.”

Bartleby waved at him lazily. “Go ahead,” he said, “but try not to hurt those girls, okay? They’re clean.”

“Not if they don't move out of the way,” Loki smirked. He pulled a gun from the recesses of his coat and walked towards the crowd. As he approached, they began to scatter. The couple finally broke apart, fear filling their eyes.

“S’cuse me, ladies,” he said.“Got some cleaning up to do.” A shot rang out. Then another.

The airport exploded into chaos as people tried to run away. Screams echoed around the terminal, interspersed with gunshots and weeping. Someone in the background called for security.

Bartleby closed his eyes, laid back in his chair with his arms propped up behind his head, and listened to the sounds of humanity going about its business.


	6. So how long have you two been together?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: write 100 words of jealousy.
> 
> Written in second person POV because I wanted to try something new.

He's sitting across from the woman the two stoners are apparently going to have sex with, leaning casually across the seat like this isn't his first substantial interaction with a human that didn't involve murder in centuries. They're deep in conversation, probably about something complex and philosophical. Or about food, it could be either one with him. Either way, you can't take your eyes off them. Off him.

The tall stoner is chattering up a storm while his friend nods along in front of you. It mostly goes in one ear and out the other, but you think you catch something about chasing off some asshole kids trying to beat up an old man. They seem nice. You approve of punishing those who deserve it. You have the sudden feeling that that woman he's leaning towards oh-so-intimately is one of the deserving, even though he told you when they came in that she and her companions were all spotless. She must have said the Lord's name in vain at some point in her life. Sure, so have you and him, but that's different. It's the difference between you calling your dad a dumbass and some stranger doing it.

She looks down, apparently upset about something, and he reaches out and touches her, comforting. He always did like humans better than you did, despite seeing their greatest flaws on display 24/7. A part of you still thinks of them as little more than a mass of moving targets. You stare straight ahead, at her downturned head. At his hand, still on her arm. Bullseye.

The quiet stoner taps you on the shoulder. You turn towards him, and he gives you a look. It's filled with understanding. Pity. You look away.

When he starts to strangle her, threatens to kill her and the others, gets them kicked out of the train, starts ranting about going back home no matter what, you're almost relieved.


	7. People are gonna think I just broke up with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: write 100 words of fake relationships.

"So we're a couple now, are we?" Bartleby asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Just for the next few hours, I'm working on a big one today," Loki replied. The two angels were walking through the halls of a Christian high school, having convinced the administration that they were motivational speakers that had been hired to help the school's problem children. "Now grab my hand," he hissed as a group of students passed by them.

Bartleby obliged. "What, you think our gay relationship'll be so inspiring that these kids all start to lose their faith?"

Loki shrugged. "Can't hurt," he said with a smirk. "I've been reliably told that we're cute enough together to make any God-fearing homophobe question their attitude towards two dudes getting it on."

Bartleby let out a huff of laughter. "I have no idea where all these people are getting this idea that we're gay from," he said frankly. Casually, he interlaced his fingers with Loki's and leant in to speak quietly into Loki's ear. "Sure, we're pretending to be together right now, but all those other times? Have those people never heard of two guys being close friends before? It's ridiculous."

Loki looked away. "Yeah," he said. "Ridiculous."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: write 100 words of finders keepers (in the 100 words of catching up thread).
> 
> (No chapter title because I couldn't think of a good one)

When God restored everything to its rightful place, She left Loki at the edges of Purgatory.As he stood there, gazing at the vast emptiness before him, Metatron appeared next to him.

"Our Father has been gracious enough to forgive you for what you have done," he said, voice dry yet sympathetic. "However, He wishes to reassess your abilities, and so He has tasked you with finding your way from Purgatory to the gates of Heaven. You may take one thing with you into Heaven, nothing else."

Loki nodded hesitantly. He was grateful for the second chance he had been given, one that he was not sure he entirely deserved (the faces of all those innocent people, screaming in horror as they dropped from the sky, reaching out for a saviour that could not get to them in time-), but he wasn't sure he would be able to find anything of use in this place. The bleakness of Purgatory was in part due to its lack of anything, as if God had been so busy dealing with Heaven and renovating Earth that furnishing Purgatory had just slipped His mind.

"I must go now," said Metatron. "Good luck." He spread his wings and disappeared.

Loki journeyed through Purgatory for a long time. With no sun or moon to guide his internal clock, measuring time was a fruitless task. Throughout his travels, he encountered the occasional human soul, but they were too self-absorbed in their internal suffering to provide any interesting company. He thought about taking one of them with him back to Heaven, but eventually decided against it.

One day (or was it night?), a small hill appeared in the distance. As he approached, a slumped figure also became visible. Its shape was humanoid, except for a pair of stumps emerging from its shoulders. Loki's breath caught in his throat. He reached back with his hand and felt the matching stumps on his own back. They no longer hurt, but the memory of the loss of his wings still made him wince.

He ran to the foot of the hill, where a familiar man lay sleeping peacefully.

"Old friend," he said quietly, as memories that he had suppressed throughout his time in Purgatory flooded his mind. The man before him stirred.

Loki smiled. _God works in mysterious ways_ , he thought in amusement. A cheesy adage invented by humans, but nevertheless quite accurate in this situation.

"Let's go home, Bartleby," he said, and reached out.


End file.
